


He Who Breaks the Silence

by ExtraPenguin



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Gen, Nazhmorhathveras, Theology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/pseuds/ExtraPenguin
Summary: Csaris Athmaza is called to interrogate an imprisoned Nazhmorhathveras witch.





	He Who Breaks the Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BonesOfBirdWings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonesOfBirdWings/gifts).



Deep in the Anmur’theileian, Csaris Athmaza walked down the block of cells. Captain Inshazhar was a half-pace in front, to the right.

“Here,” Inshazhar said.

Morhathnal Noth did not lift his gaze. The Nazhmorhathveras witch was only the second of his kind captured by the elven soldiers on the Evressai steppes. His people were bargaining to get him back, but that, too, took time. Enough time for Captain Inshazhar to request a dachenmaza from nearby Ezho.

Csaris muttered gently under his breath, and Cstheio answered his request: cool white light blossomed on Csaris’ open palm, bathing the cell block with eerie shadows.

Morhathnal Noth slowly lifted his head to gaze at Csaris. He cocked his head, as if in mockery of Csaris’ magic.

“You, too, are a servant of the Nazhmorhathzhan. Is that why you are here?”

It took Csaris a while to parse what the witch had said. It took Csaris a while longer to decide how to answer. “Yes, we are a maza.”

“And yet you leave us here, behind bars. Does the Seeker of Knowledge so desperately seek the knowledge of the life within a prison cell?”

“We have Cstheio’s gift–”

“And yet you dare speak her name aloud.” Morhathnal blinked slowly. “She Who Is Wise does not take kindly to those who do not give proper respect. It is only wise to respect the unnameable. She Who Is Wise has little patience for the unwise.”

Csaris resisted the urge to snap. “Cstheio does not provide the mortal realm with anything. She merely observes.”

Morhathnal snorted, but said no more. He turned his gaze to a private infinity. Csaris was about to truly snap when Inshazhar placed a quelling hand on his shoulder. He let himself be led off.

“You acquired more from him in your first minutes than we did in our first hours in his acquaintance. Quite an achievement, Csaris.” Inshazhar sighed. “Alas, cultural insight seldom wins wars that have already started.”

“And wars yet to start?”

“Can be won without waging, should wily enough means be used.” Inshazhar smiled. “Some judicious manipulation of local sentiment, and invasions can be thwarted before they begin.”

Inshazhar had yet to remove his hand from Csaris’ shoulder. Csaris did not mind.

“We heard that the first Nazhmorhathveras witch caught had named himself after a night-hunting steppe cat,” Csaris said. “Is a morhathnal anything in particular?”

“We asked about that. Apparently, a nal is a river – we believe serpent of some sort; he had trouble getting his point across. A morhathnal, ‘sky serpent’, is some sort of large eagle from further northwest. Whether real or legendary, we couldn’t find out. Morhathnal Noth does not quite speak the same language that we do, and certain topics especially can be quite hard to get across.”

“Merely due to different words and structures, or also a different cultural baseline?”

“Both, we suppose.” They had arrived at Inshazhar’s quarters. “Would you care to discuss the situation in more depth within my quarters, Athmaza?”

“Certainly, Captain,” Csaris said.

Inshazhar closed the door after them. The quarters were ascetic, with but a bed, a desk, and a chair. He waved Csaris to the bed and sat next to him.

“Knowledge of how they conceptualize their witches is intriguing, and I’m sure the philosophers of Cetho would do much with it, but if thou couldst find whether there is a rocky outcropping on the Evressai steppes that is not an ulimeire of theirs, I would be grateful.”

“Couldst elaborate, Rathu?”

“The reason for the continued war with the Nazhmorhathveras is that we built the Anmur’theileian on their burial ground. Apparently, meditating amongst the dead was a rite of passage.” Inshazhar let his head fall backwards. “To think, had we built our fortress on the next outcropping over, we wouldn’t be fighting this war.”

“They still raid the border towns,” Csaris said. “Including Ezho.” Indeed, part of the reason Csaris was this far East in the first place was the occasional need for mazeise assistance in defence and offence against the steppe raiders. Ironic, that in combating the enemy they would become more like them, incorporating mazei into the war effort.

“True.” Inshazhar sighed. “Still, His Serenity Edrehasivar Zhas has inquired of us whether it would be possible to rebuild the fortress at some other locale, so as to make the Nazhmorhathveras quiet down somewhat. It appeals to his sense of fairness, I think.”

“What impossible tasks thy superiors ask of thee,” Csaris murmured. “I shall try to ask whether the blasted steppes have any defensible location that isn’t a graveyard of theirs. Whether I get any further than thee is another matter entirely.” He stroked Inshazhar’s ear. Inshazhar shivered, and at a second stroke, pressed Csaris down to the mattress.

Csaris was more than happy with this development.

 

It was summer, so Anmura rose early, bathing the Anmur’theileian in golden light. Csaris ate his morning meal in silence while Inshazhar attended to administrative matters.

 

As soon as the soldiers cleared out the remains of Morhathnal Noth’s breakfast, Csaris walked to the cell.

“Why do you fight? What is it, with the Anmur’theileian?”

“It is built on the bones of our dead, as you should know already. We have tried to tell you, over and over. We have given offerings to He Who Lifts The Sun. We have prayed for the Seeker of Knowledge to drive knowledge into your bones. Still, you have not listened.”

“And what would you have us do? Dismantle our lone fortress and leave you free rein to terrorize the lands below?”

“If one cannot defend a land, does one deserve to keep it?”

“But we _can_ defend the land, with the Anmur’theileian.” Csaris sighed. “We feel thou art being deliberately obtuse–”

Morhathnal Noth screamed like a hunting eagle, and an eerie green bubble began expanding around him. Csaris cast a barrier spell, but the bubble dissipated before it reached him.

“ _That_ ,” Morhathnal said, “is what us being obtuse looks like. Do not mistake disagreement for idiocy.”

Csaris knew he should have had some witty rejoinder, but none came to mind. Instead, he let the point slide, adding it to a tally of things he should have handled better.

“Why not bury your dead elsewhere?” Csaris finally said. “What is it about this outcropping that means you cannot meditate elsewhere?”

“So you do know things,” Morhathnal murmured. “Our ancestors were but small-time hunters, always on the brink of starvation, when the Nazhmorhathzhan appeared to them on this very ledge and gave them the greatest gift of all: the horse. Brother Horse is loyal and hardy and loves His people. Brother Horse brought us to the cattle, the sheep, and the goats which we herd. Brother Horse brings us to the breeding grounds of the rabbits and meiran we hunt. Brother Horse will bring us to the Source of Knowledge, His birthplace, again and again, until the Southern horde has been pushed back and back and back. Brother Horse will bring us to Cetho, victorious. Brother Horse will let us reign over your lands, from the end of the steppes to the Chadevan Sea.”

Csaris felt stilled. “So you desire not merely a return to the past, but – conquest, as well?”

Morhathnal smiled a smile that was more of a baring of too-sharp canines. “You have started this holy war, elf. We will not rest until the blood of your Emperors stains Brother Horse’s hooves. You may have denied us the chance of meditating at the Source of Knowledge – for now – but do not live in error: we will succeed, no matter what you throw before us. We will succeed, and we will conquer, and we will rule you from the back of Brother Horse.”

Csaris’ heart beat faster, but his mind had gone still. A distant voice whispered that he had better go tell Rathu about this information, but it took him a moment to leave.

He did not look back at Morhathnal’s snarl of a grin.


End file.
